DISCLAIMER: Joss owns the freakshow of a series. I own this happy universe.
TIMELINE: Season 3, post-graduation
SPOILERS: First three seasons, end of Season 3 in particular.
SYNOPSIS: All I have left to live for is you.
DISTRIBUTION: Take take take. Please send me the URL if you take.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: And old fic on my harddrive + a sappy Bif Naked song = SappyAngsty fic. I HIGHLY recommend listening to "Lucky" by Bif Naked while you read. Big with the atmosphere, that song is.
FEEDBACK: I take Feedback out to dinner and put out on the first date.
RATING: PG-13 for some cursing.

"Back here, are we?"

He didn't turn as her voice floated over on the breeze, just remained standing, staring out at the lights and the noise and the smoke that floated over the small town in front of him.

"Well, if you were going to pick a spot, you could be a little less predictable."

"Like where?"

"I dunno. I was thinking out of the city. That's what you said after all."

Her voice was hard, filled with pain. He didn't want to think about that.

"I know."

"Angel..."

"Go away, Buffy."

"I'm alive, Angel," he turned at that, fear gripping his heart irrationally as she confirmed her well-being, "I stopped an ascension and survived. Giles said I'm the first ever to do that. The first ever to survive it."

"I- Good." He tried not to think about her tear stained face, and the scar that was already healed on her neck. Tried not to notice her bruised torso, exposed by a huge rip in her shirt. Tried to ignore her bleeding knuckles.

"I'm alive, Angel," she said, stepping closer to him, "But I'm not alright."

"You're- You're hurt. You need to rest-"

"This?" she made a vague gesture at her wounds, "These will heal. By morning, probably. I'm stronger than ever."

"I- Good."

"Yeah. Fucking wonderful," she snorted and shook her head, walking next to him, peering out on the town, "God, do they even know?"

"Know..?"

"They're so happy, Angel. All of them, they're down at the school, graduating. Celebrating. A battle won, and all that."

"They can't understand-"

"Not that Mayor, high school. We beat it. Even I did."

"You did."

"They're so happy," she turned to him, tears bright in her eyes, "Why can't I be happy?"

"Buffy, don't do this.."

"No! I *am* doing this! It's *MY* turn to do this! My turn to make a goddamn decision around here!"

"Buffy-"

"STOP THAT! Just listen to me for a minute, Angel! Take one goddamn minute and listen. *Please*," she begged, tears dripping down her cheeks, "Please, just a minute."

"I-"

"You can. You always have a choice. Dammit, you always have *THE* choice. I've *never* gotten a choice. Not in whether or not you leave, not in where I go to college, how I spend my life. I don't even get a choice about how long I get to live!"

"You *always*-"

"I don't," she laughed again, a humorless, empty laugh, "God, Angel, I'm like a carton of milk. Use by such-and-such. It's a little label on my soul that no one can see. I'm going to die."

"Don't say that-"

"WHY NOT?? Why the fuck not? I'M GOING TO DIE, ANGEL! And sooner, probably, rather than later! ACCEPT IT!"

"I can't- "

"Well you *have* to."

"I don't want to."

"Join the club."

"Buffy, this is pointless-"

"It's NOT pointless! Angel, I need you. I need you to *stay*. I need you here, helping me, keeping me alive!"

"I can't.. Buffy, I can't stay.."

"THEN WHAT DO I HAVE TO LIVE FOR? Tell me, Angel, enlighten me! My mom? My mom who thinks it's a job, who wants me to give it up and go to college? Who bothers me day and night about moving on, finding a normal life? Who tried to burn me at the stake?! My friends? My friends who are always telling me what I do right and wrong? Who remind me every second of every day of all the horrible things I let happen? Who blame me for you, for Faith, for Jenny? For the people of Sunnydale who don't even know I exist? For the demons? For th sake of the goddamn world? FUCK THE WORLD. I don't care anymore! I have nothing here, Angel, nothing except for you. Nothing holding me here. I could go, find my way to some country, get killed by a lucky vamp. Hell, maybe Spike'll find me and do me in. Poetic justice right? I have NOTHING in my life. Nothing but demons and death."

"You have so much more," his voice cracked as he reached out to brush away the tears that were falling harder, but unnoticed, down her face, "You have friends and family who love you. You have sunshine and shopping malls and everything I can't give you."

"Like what? Like picnics? Like babies? Like things I don't have time or a chance to enjoy? What are you leaving me for? What are you *really* leaving me for?"

"I- You need-"

"A life without fear?"

"What?"

"Fear," she looked up at him, eyes dead and alive and happy and sad all at once, "Your soul. You're afraid."

"I- What are you-"

"You're afraid to lost it. Afraid I'll make you too happy. I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. God, I love you so much. I love you until I can't breathe, and you love me the same, and you're terrified."

"I..."

"I know it's true. But don't you see it doesn't matter? Don't you have control? I know I do. I can't do this, Angel," She broke from his light grasp and turned back to the town, "Without you.. I have no sun. Please. I need you."

"I can't stay. I- I need to be strong. Let me be strong."

"Strong is fighting," she turned back to him, her voice soft and calm and echoing of past desperation and fear, "It's hard and it's everyday."

"I.." He was drowning in her eyes, fighting against a current, feeling his heart tug and pull and rip at the seams. Surely this was too much to ask of a man.

"I love you. Please. Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

They were whispers, empty and desperate and quiet and everything that he knew she was never before and about to be. And before either of them could blink, he had pulled her into his arms and crushed his lips to hers.

*******************************************************

What could I say to you except I love you
And I'd give my life for yours
I know we are, we are the lucky ones

****************************************************** TITLE: Always and Forever, Love Buffy AUTHOR: Elora E-MAIL: jedically@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I don't even own the computer I'm writing from.
TIMELINE: Er, anywhere from mid season four and after.
SPOILERS: Nothing that I can think of...just say everything season 4 and earlier, okay?
SYNOPSIS: Angel gets a letter. Angsty.
AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks to my betas, Ice Princess and Heather! And everyone else that offered your help, I really appreciate it! This story has probably been done a thousand times, and will probably be done a thousand more. But then, most plots have been.
DISTRIBUTION: Wherever. Just tell me, I like to keep track!
FEEDBACK: Does anyone actually say NO to this?
RATING: G, maybe PG for talking about suicide...

With trembling fingers the vampire with a soul slowly opened the envelope. He focused his bloodshot eyes on the familiar scrawl of his beloved, barely even noticing that she hadn't written a greeting.

Did you know I'm nothing? No, of course you didn't. Everyone thinks that I am someone special, that I have some wonderful personality. I don't. They think there is more to me than a quick wit and the ability to fight. They're wrong. Those other things? That passion? That fire of love and hate? The desire to fight? Those things aren't there anymore.

Have I ever mentioned that everything hinged on you? I can fight on, I'm a warrior, it's what I do. But at one point, There was more to me than that.

There isn't now.

Willow thinks you did the right thing. Every time she looks at Riley I see it in her eyes. It's the same look she used to have when she looked at you, before Angelus stole our innocence. After he came, I was never the same again. And I think that's why you left. I latched on to you because around you I had a personality. I was smart, and funny, and I had passion. I could love and hate, and spread friendship around like a cloak. But Angelus came, and ripped that apart. None of them ever looked at me again, and I know, deep in their hearts, they blame me. If not for me we would still have lost our innocence, but in less tragic ways. Not by going to school and seeing an empty classroom where our favorite teacher once sat. Not by waking up without your lover beside you.

Did I ever tell you about Parker? I don't think I did, but things have been rather muddled lately.

I slept with him. Desperate to feel what you gave me, I hopped into bed with the first boy who said I was pretty. Pretty dumb.

I suppose I've had an inferiority complex for some time now. A girl doesn't just get over hearing what Angelus told me the morning after very easily.

I knew somewhere that it wasn't what you thought, after all you had gotten a moment of pure happiness. But still, it lingers you know? Parker didn't help. He told me it had just been fun, I couldn't have thought it was serious could I? No. I asked Willow 'Is this what always happens? Sleep with a guy and he turns all evil on you?' but somewhere down inside, I was still thinking that Parker was right not to want me.

Do you remember when I came to LA and found you with Faith? I don't suppose I explained what happened did I? Why it hurt me so much? Faith switched our bodies when she woke up. No one noticed, not my friends-the only one who did, was Willow's girlfriend who I had never met before. That hurt beyond belief, but the killer?

Riley slept with her. In my body. When I was back to normal I thought, why didn't he know? Angel would have known. And still that niggling little worry, that maybe Riley hadn't noticed, because Faith was better than me and he didn't want to admit it wasn't me.

At least I could hold on to the fact that you loved me. You would have known if you'd seen me, and you would have helped me.

Then you chose Faith over me. I was acting irrational, but I always do when it comes to you.

I thought of something the other day. In everyone's hearts, they have a kitchen. A fridge and a pantry for keeping love fresh and in stock, an oven for preparing it and dishes for serving it to others. You have a kitchen a chef would adore, with love to spare.

I have a mini-fridge, paper plates, and a microwave. Good for reheating leftovers, but not much else. You sent me so much love that I had enough to share with everyone. But they all got so used to me giving your leftover love, that when you weren't sharing anymore, my well dried up, and my microwave is just serving old love, twice reheated and bland. They blamed Riley at first, they thought I was giving him all my love. They didn't realize I didn't have any fresh love, and what he had was even older than theirs. At least what I was giving them was recycled from what I used to give them. Riley's...Riley got what I used to share with Tyler and Pike, and other boyfriends I had pre-you. It was the love of a child, not a woman. Maybe that would have satisfied him, it seemed to, until he met you. I know he felt it when you were both in my room. I've never met anyone who didn't feel it when we were around each other. That's when he realized that the love I gave him wasn't quite as tasty as he thought.

That analogy got kind of gross somewhere along the line didn't it?

I should probably get to the point. I'm rambling, but you know I do that when I'm nervous. I want you to understand why I act the way I do, why I was always so desperate to have you with me. When I felt, or thought I felt you slipping away I was terrified that I would lose that income of love, and everyone would hate me because I couldn't love them as much, because who can spread love when their heart and soul is a hundred miles away?

I guess what I'm trying to say is...I can't do it anymore. I can't pretend to be who I used to, when I'm just a shell. I can't say I love Riley, and sleep with him all the while trying my hardest not to wish it was you beside me. And I have to admit I fail more often then not.

So the point of this letter is goodbye I guess. Because I can't survive on my own, friends and family be damned, none of them are you.

You'll probably feel guilty when you read this. 'I should have stayed with her' you'll think. Finally coming around eh? Hehe. But you did what you thought was right. I don't blame you for that, not anymore. I understand, I even...agree, on some level. You were risking Angelus by being around me. It's funny, you lose your soul when you're around me, I lose my soul when you're gone (did I ever tell you that my first roommate sucked my soul out while I was asleep? Yeah, she was a demon. I so know how you feel now).

Get to the point Buff. Finish the letter. Okay.

I love you. Every scrap of love I have left is yours. Given the option between living a hundred years alone or dying in your arms, I choose dying. I've got a poison that I'm about to drink. I should be fine for two and a half hours. After that it should take about ten minutes. I'm going to take it right after I mail this letter. Then I'm going to drive out to LA. I want you to be the last thing I see.

Always and Forever

Love,
Buffy

Angel put down the letter, his hands shaking once more. He finished his glass of whisky in a quick gulp. He stared out the door of his office, into the empty lobby. His associates hadn't come back to work in several days. He'd ordered them away, he wanted to grieve he said. Maybe they knew, maybe they understood.

That morning he greeted the sunrise with open arms. The only reminder of a once vibrant lover was a pile of ashes, and a tearstained letter. The End

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